


Get A Clue

by squidgie



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: A Little Cringeworthy, Crack, M/M, OMG SO MUCH CRACK, Serious Crack, WTF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:47:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24796417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squidgie/pseuds/squidgie
Summary: John looked around, his head groggy and his mouth dry.  The last thing he remembered was being on Atlantis.  Maybe in a meeting?  So why did he feel like his head was filled with cotton?  And why was he holding a small caliber revolver?More importantly, why was Rodney standing across from him?  In an old-fashioned, matronly-looking dress with a fur wrap that looked more bovine than mink.  Holding a knife?
Relationships: Rodney McKay/John Sheppard
Comments: 25
Kudos: 37





	Get A Clue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [melagan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/melagan/gifts).



> Oh my god, so much crack. I love and adore [melagan](https://melagan.dreamwidth.org), but this is kinda her fault because I found this in my list of abandoned plot bunnies and just ran with it. Clue is in the title - GET IT? ::grin::

John looked around, his head groggy and his mouth dry. The last thing he remembered was being on Atlantis. Maybe in a meeting? So why did he feel like his head was filled with cotton? And why was he holding a small caliber revolver?

More importantly, why was Rodney standing across from him? In an old-fashioned, matronly-looking dress with a fur wrap that looked more bovine than mink. Holding a knife?

He glanced around, taking it all in, stepping forward.

"No, no, don't do that," Rodney said, pushing his cat-eye glasses up the bridge of his nose with his orange glove covered hand. "Now you've gone and done it. You've stepped in the blood."

It was then that John looked down and noticed the body that lay before him. And while a body held many questions, the others in the room posed just as many, if not more. "Wait, wait, wait," he said, then stepped back, wiping the blood from his boot on a nearby rug. Except he wasn't wearing boots. He was wearing really comfortable loafers. That didn't make sense.

Then again, not much over the last couple of minutes made sense to John.

"Oh clean that up, won't you, Wadsworth?" another voice asked. John looked up, connecting the voice with Elizabeth. Except Elizabeth wasn't in her normal uniform. Hell, _nobody_ was in their normal uniform. Elizabeth had her hair cut short, a pillbox hat on her head, her face covered in what looked like a fishnet. "Elizabeth?" He turned to who Elizabeth was gesturing to, and realized the man that was cleaning up the blood he'd just smeared all over a small decorative carpet as General Jack O'Neill. "General?" John tried to salute but just ended up gesturing wildly with the gun in his hand.

"That man is _no_ General," another voice came. Evan Lorne's voice. But when John turned to him, Evan wasn't in his everyday Air Force uniform. Rather, he was in an old fashioned army outfit. "And what are you trying to do, waving that gun around?" he asked, gesturing with a wrench in his hands. "Trying to kill someone else, are you?" like John was responsible for the dead body at their feet. Evan looked him up and down. "I know your kind. Working in the pentagon amid such secrecy that even a Colonel like me doesn't have privy to."

"Colonel?" John asked. But before he got an answer, or asked more questions, he took stock. Before him was Kavanagh, laying in a pool of blood, dead. Rodney, of course, was in that same dress, holding the knife. Elizabeth was holding a length of rope, a noose at the end, muttering, "Fl- Fl- _Flames_ ," repeatedly. Evan, in his Army uniform from what was either World War I or II, was punching his open palm with an oversized wrench. Next to Evan was Ronon, who was dressed in a tweed jacket and corduroy pants, smart-looking wire-rimmed glasses on his face with his hair pulled back in a professional manner. Was he supposed to be a professor or something? He held a candlestick in one hand, the other hand John couldn't see - but that's because Ronon held it behind Teyla. Teyla, who was dressed in a green satin dress that looked as if she was sewn into it. And who just startled, an unhappy, "Watch it," coming from her lips as she held out a lead pipe.

"What in the sam hill is this?" John asked. He was on Atlantis. Wasn't he? So how the hell was he just transported into a real-life version of the movie ' _Clue_ '? "Somebody want to tell me what the hell is going on?"

"Well," O'Neill said, straightening his butler's uniform. "I suggest that you utter the spoken words," he added cryptically. He gestured to Kavanagh at their feet. "The sooner you confess, the sooner we can retire to the library for drinks."

"Well I didn't do it," John said.

"That's not how this works, Mr. Green," Rodney said, his lips pinched primly. "Watch me." Rodney cleared his throat, and John couldn't decide if he was more intrigued by being in the dress, or that the matronly outfit Rodney wore had feathers, which John knew Rodney hated. Rodney turned to Ronon and Elizabeth. "Maybe he wasn't dead?" he offered.

Ronon looked away from Teyla's scandalous figure for the first time. "He was!" he exclaimed, holding a smoking pipe in one hand, the candlestick in the other. “I thought he was...”

Elizabeth looked scandalized. With a white-gloved hand to her bosom, she said, "We should have made sure."

Rodney rolled his eyes. "How? By cutting off his head, I suppose?"

" _That_ was uncalled for."

Everyone around the room nodded, and after a beat, Teyla was at the fire, pulling a small roll of microfilm before it could melt in the flames. She held it over a nearby lamp and looked at the images the microfilm held, then waved it at Evan.

Evan gasped, then limped to Teyla. "Those are _my_ pictures, and I'd like them back, please!"

Teyla gave him a sickly-sweet smile. "No, I'm afraid there's something in them that concerns me, too." She continued to wave them in front of Evan's face until Ronon grabbed them.

"Let me see." And as Ronon studied the pictures, everyone tried to get a peek. But no one was close enough, save Elizabeth.

"Oh no. Oh no, no, no. Nobody can get into _that_ position," Elizabeth said.

Ronon dropped the microfilm in Teyla's waiting hands, clenched his pipe between his teeth, then loosened his collar. "Sure they can. Let me show you," he said, then threw her down onto the couch.

Elizabeth's cry of, "Get off me!" filled the room, then led them into a momentary silence.

"Okay, so..." John finally said as he took a seat. "So that's how we get to determine who killed Kav- I mean, Mr. Boddy?" he gestured to Kavanagh, who seems to have been jostled around quite a bit if the amount of blood splatter was any indication. "We all say our lines, then we, what... Go have drinks?"

"Yes," O'Neill replied. "We're just waiting on you, John." O'Neill did a quick, "Tut, tut," with a smile as he went back into character. "I mean, Mr. Green."

John thought back, then realized exactly what _his_ line was. "Okay," he said, then cleared his throat. "I work for Stargate Command, and-" Suddenly John was wide awake, his body continuing the upward movement to his feet, and in a booming voice, he exclaimed, "I am a homosexual."

John looked around the room, realizing he was suddenly back on Atlantis. In Elizabeth's conference room. With all senior staff sitting around her table, including the visiting General Jack O'Neill. The blood drained from his face as he came out of the intense dream he'd quickly fallen into and realized exactly what he said, and whom he'd said it to. He couldn't believe he'd fallen asleep in one of Elizabeth's staff meetings, much less declared his sexuality at the near top of his lungs.

The silence was cut two seconds later when Ronon and O'Neill simultaneously said, "Duh," followed by nervous laughter that tittered around the room. And then quickly after that came raucous laughter that threatened to not die down until Elizabeth rapped on the heavy wooden table with her knuckles.

"Thank you for sharing that, John. You can sit down," she said, smiling all the way to her eyes. When John didn't move, Rodney whacked him in the side with his hand to garner his attention. As he took his seat, Elizabeth continued, "But I think we all already knew that, seeing as how we just celebrated yours and Rodney's second anniversary a few days ago?"

John crossed his arms, knowing his face was red, but not caring as he turned his gaze to Rodney.

"What? What did _I_ do?" Rodney asked.

With a heavy sigh through his nose, John said, "You are _never_ picking the movie night ever again!"


End file.
